


A Smile and a Gun can get you Farther

by n1ightw1ng



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gangs, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Temporary Amnesia, Trans Male Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n1ightw1ng/pseuds/n1ightw1ng
Summary: This takes place a little bit prior to the courier accepting the package to the Mojave. Just a bit of back story and a shift in the canon story to fit my own wishes to how it had gone and what it included





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The courier here is a trans man named Stash; he grew up with the Boot Riders up until his teen years where he left to eventually become a courier and travel across the west like he had always wanted. Occasionally stopping by to catch up with a special individual in his life for a few weeks before returning to his nomadic lifestyle. Here the story begins on one such occasion. There will be noted time skips throughout the first chapter but once the opening scene actually happens the timeline will continue as normal.

The dim glow from the campfire soothed Stash's nerves, his hands were shaking as he huddled himself closer to the flames. Despite the unbearable heat during the day, the Mojave never seemed to fail in dropping in low temperatures during the night. A chill crawled down his back and he pulled his blanket tighter around him. It was barely helpful, honestly. A thin sheet he had scavenged in some old abandoned hut in New Reno. It had a few holes in it, mysterious stains he would rather not think about, and hardly covered his entire body. It was enough, though. Beggars can't be choosers when you spend most of your time wandering the wastes. It was rough, scary, and most of all dangerous. Never knowing who he could trust had been the new normal; a lot different from growing up in the tribe. Even when hearing the voice of someone he could trust come from behind, Stash still jumped, startled.

 **"Hey tomcat, you good out here?"** Benny put a hand on Stash's shoulder and knelt down beside him.  **"You're shaking worse than a psycho-addict, c'mon you don't wanna come inside? See everybody?"**

Stash leaned into the other and chuckled, shaking his head quickly.  **"No, no. Bingo would kill me, you know that. Once you leave the tribe you're dead. That's always been a rule; one even you can't make him see around."** He teased with a smirk.  **"'Sides, what am I gonna do if he does let me see everyone? They were all waiting for me to either run away or somethin'. No one was too fond of the fact I'm..."** He paused, staring into the weakening fire with tired eyes. Benny didn't reply, keeping his hand at Stash's back and holding him close. He didn't need to say more when that issue had been a large push for Stash to leave in the first place. Nonacceptance had been expected when Stash had it all figured out, and Benny was really the only one who accepted it aside from his mother. After a while it had just become too much to handle. Living in a society like that where you were cast out. He much preferred a rotting wasteland than that.

Benny had reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack, handing a cigarette to Stash and lighting it with his lighter. Stash caught the engraving on the side and smirked.  **"You still have that? Jeez I gave it to you just about five years ago. How's it still got any juice?"** He reached over and took it, taking a quick puff from his cigarette before looking at the scratched painting still intact. He scoffed, handing it back after a few moments. 

Benny pushed it into his pocket along with the pack and shrugged nonchalantly, his arm moving down around Stash's waist.  **"You know me, I'm a sentimental guy. I like holding onto memories. Especially good one's like you."** He kissed his cheek and laughed at Stash's mocking grimace, dramatically wiping his cheek.  **"You know which memories I'm talking about? Where you'd be pinned up against the wall, and I'd-"**

Stash shoved Benny away and laughed, shaking his head and holding his hands up to cover his mouth.  **"God, please stop talking."** He said through choked laughter. His face was flushed already in embarrassment despite no one being there to hear them. Stash wasn't exactly as  _open_ about his sexual encounters like Benny. Those moments he enjoyed keeping private, within the safety of his own memories. Especially when out there where anyone can take a shot to the head, talking about anything personal was a risk. Something to use against another. Maybe it was out of habit that Stash had quickly shut Benny down, slightly paranoid that anyone could be near and hear it. Benny, though, had been trying to stifle his laughter while Stash pressed his hand against his face, the other still holding his cigarette. 

Stash took another puff and blew the smoke in Benny's face as his own little revenge, moving his hand away. There were a few moments of silence, both staring each other down before, of course, Benny broke the silence. 

**"Prude."  
**

**"Goddammit Benny."** Stash rolled his eyes and looked back into the fire, frowning as it was now just a few dying embers and thick smoke. With Benny here, though, he didn't feel the cold anymore. It was always better with him around anyway, no matter how much of a jackass he could be.  **"I'm scheduled for another job next week."** He muttered, shuffling away from him now and leaning back on his palm, discarding the cigarette into the dying fire. Benny had closed in whatever space Stash attempted to make though, lying next to him. He couldn't help but smile when laid his head across his stomach, but Benny's expression had turned into a frown. The usual reaction to him leaving.  **"It's not gonna be so bad, I'll be in California. Heard the NCR is really growing over there, so it shouldn't be much of a hassle. Once that's over with though..."** He bit his lip, looking down at the other.

It took a few seconds for him to catch on, and his lips turned up in a smile.  **"You're gonna stay? Come back and stay?"** He sounded like an excited dog as if Stash were holding up a treat for him to take. He couldn't help but laugh, nodding his head. 

 **"Yeah, settle down or something. I just know that you're gonna be in my future for sure, Benny. I want you to be with me."**  
  
"Well, you got a date cool cat. You sure you want to see this guys mug every day?" Benny teased, getting up again and leaning in to kiss his forehead, his hand ruffling Stash's dark red hair. He wrapped his arms around the tribal and pulled him down, pressing his head into his shoulder and a muffled 'fuck yeah' making him chuckle.  **"You can count on it, then."**

 

* * *

 

 Almost two years had passed. The job had been more than Stash expected, truthfully. The old man in Primm had been blunt about it, sure, but so were most of the Mojave Express workers. Every employer told him it wouldn't be an easy job. There would be the possibility of dying out there with a note in your bag as the only way to identify the body. They hadn't said he would be taking an entire full round trip, though. Once Stash hit Sunnyvale and handed the scavengers there the letter assigned to him, they looked to one another and 'rewarded' him with a package. 

 **" _Don't_ open that. You're going to New Vegas and dropping it off to House at the Lucky 38." ** What the fuck was that supposed to mean? He was told to deliver a letter in Sunnyvale and nothing came after that. Stash had bitterly taken the package and left to the nearest NCR-protected settlement. It had taken him just about a year and a half to even reach the place, now he was being told there was  _more_ to the job? Had he known it would have taken him this long, he would have dropped it for another courier and stayed when he had the chance.

 _A fuckin' idiot._ He kicked the dresser in frustration and slammed the bourbon bottle down.  _You had it. Right there you fuckin' had it._ Next to be thrown was his bag, slammed against the wall and falling the floor with a soft clang from his pouch of caps attached. A knock at the door withdrew him from his angered state, and he paused. A soft feminine voice called from outside.  _ **"Are you alright, ma'am?"**_ He gritted his teeth and tensed. Within three strides he was facing the door and swung it open, glaring down at the innkeeper. She appeared startled, but did not move. 

 **" _Sir_."** Stash growled out, definitely _not_ in the mood to deal with this. She did not seem to care, only peering around him and nodding her head. Her voice just as quiet and soft before, asking him to quiet down. Stash shut the door as she left and took off his duster before crawling into bed.  **"New Vegas."** He murmured to himself, rolling over and falling asleep.

 

The following months had been routine. Wake up, get a few miles east, set up tent at nightfall, sleep. Repeat. Occasionally a caravan would stop by and give him the chance to trade a few things for caps, which he would end up spending on water anyhow. Always being sure to keep at least forty caps on him in the end. On lucky nights he would crash at a rundown hotel or manage to convince a whorehouse to let him keep a room alone for the night. Every so often, when the liquor went straight to his brain and he couldn't keep himself from shaking, he would pull out the package. The pain in his ass from day one. The only thing dragging him down and stopping him from just bolting for it. Back to the tribe and beg for Bingo to let him back home. Maybe his mom was still there to vouch for him. Benny would be there to support him. 

Underneath the package he kept a little envelope of Polaroids he had taken throughout his travels. It kept him centered, looking through them. Most of them were from his adolescence. A few of him and his mother, their pet mole rat Scrap, and one of his favorites; Benny dressed in a trench coat, obviously much too big with the sleeves hanging over his hands and the coat itself folding over at his feet. Along with a fedora tipped over so his eyes were covered. Stash normally only glanced at them for a few seconds before putting everything away, only to repeat the cycle over the next couple of months.

 

Goodsprings. The billboard beside the road had been a blessing to see. It had been weeks since his last run-in with a caravan. Managing to stave off drinking all of his clean water up until two nights ago. Now, he was dead tired. Dehydrated. His vision had been going in and out, unfocused and eyes glazed over as his leather boots scuffed against the pavement, Still, he clung to his bag. His hands unable to be pried away from the straps on his shoulders. The package was his ball and chain, and New Vegas was his key to release. The dimmed lights of a saloon called his name, almost tripping over himself as he tried to hustle into the saloon. The door opened with ease, save for the loud creaking giving him away. 

 **"Welcome to Goodsprings, honey. Need a drink? Name's Trudy."** Stash looked in the direction coming from his left, and he followed it robotically. He fell ungracefully onto a stool and reached into his pouch, putting out a handful of caps and pointing to the pitcher of water across the bar. His mouth was incredibly dry and his throat felt charred if he spoke. Trudy didn't seem to be bothered much at first, pouring him a glass and setting it on the counter. Only when she got closer, giving him a good look did she become worried.  **"You alright sweetheart? Here, drink this."** She reached under the counter and added something into his water, and he recognized the sweet scent, Agave nectar. Stash accepted the cup given to him and drank it down hurriedly, slamming the cup down with a deep exhale. It felt like he had taken a glass straight from the water at Project Purity back in D.C. 

 **"Thank you..."** His voice was still rough, but it didn't hurt so much to talk now. Stash leaned his face into his palm, rubbing off the dirt and dust that had begun to cover him.  **"How much-"**

Trudy shushed him before he could finish, taking his glass and filling it up again.  **"We got water straight from the pump up on the hill, if you were too delirious to see that, I have no problem helpin' you back on your feet with a few free glasses."** She set it down again and refused again when Stash insisted. A friendly smile was all she gave and a shake of her head.  **"Unless you want booze too, you're not payin' me a thing. Don't you worry."** A sigh of relief and Stash had filled himself with eight glasses one after the other. In between he had started some small talk with her, telling her about where he was going and what he was doing. 

At the mention of New Vegas, she sighed and occupied herself with cleaning the glasses on the counter.  **"Since that place went up n' runnin' there's been a lot of tension. Never been there myself, but apparently its an oasis to the wasteland."** She joked.  **"Who's in New Vegas for that long that'll need a lil' playing chip? Seems foolish to me."** Stash shrugged in response, not sure himself.

 **"I left a few months before it had become a big landmark. I grew up not to far away from it apparently, but I don't really recall ever seeing a place full of flashing lights and music. Just big rundown buildings we used to sleep inside of. I'm sure my family probably goes there a lot, though. Sounds like a place for trouble. Perfect for them."** He chuckled to himself, his mind wandering to the possibilities of what he would find when he returned. Like how Papa Khan had reacted when seeing it so close to home, or if Bingo decided to take advantage of the sudden influx of travelers and harass them for caps. 

He cleared his throat and stood up, tipping his Stetson to Trudy with a smile.  **"Thank you for helping me out. I'll be sure to send some travelers your way while on the road."** He promised, though leaving the caps on the counter, which she finally accepted with a huff before he walked out. He took a pack of cigarettes out of his bag while walking back onto the road when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he was stifled, almost tripping backwards when he saw who was there. 

 **"Benny?"** He almost didn't recognize him. A flashy checkered coat was a lot different from the tattered clothes and leather harness. He looked... extremely healthy. Where as the last time they'd met, the Boot Riders had been in the midst of a food shortage, he was glad to see they had pushed through that. Now... Well, it was a lot to take in.

Benny didn't seem so happy, on the other hand. He was stiff as a board and Stash realized the two Khans behind him. The Benny he knew would never...

 **"Figured it was you. Always had terrible fashion with that Stetson."**  He seemed to be talking more to himself. **"** **Good to see you tomcat, just not like this."** He sounded disappointed for a moment, and Stash began to back away. This had bad news written all over it. He felt someone come up behind him and instinctively whirled around with his fist ready, only to be held back by another Khan. **"C'mon Stash, don't be like that."** He continued to struggle, kicking his legs thrashing. 

 **"Fuck you!"** He growled back, glaring daggers in Benny's direction.  **"What the _fuck_ is this? What did I do?" ** The tribal refused to look at him this time, instead his eyes fixed on the ground. He made a motion with his hand and one of the Khans let go of him, and suddenly everything went black. 

 

* * *

 

His face pressed into the dust, Stash coughed and pushed himself up. His head  _hurt_ and his confusion was quickly turned over with anger when he looked down to see his wrists bound together. There was someone next to him, digging? His head turned and saw a shallow hole next to him, and his mouth suddenly felt dry. Voices in front of him grabbed his attention, and he looked up to see Benny pacing between the two Khans beside him. 

**"You got what you were after, now _pay up_."**

**  
** **"You're crying in the rain, palie."**

 

 **"Hey, guess who's wakin' up over here."**  

 

Stash gritted his teeth and stared at them with murder in his eyes, if only he hadn't been tied up it might have worked.

 **"Alright..."** Benny dropped his cigarette and crushed it under his boot.  **"Time to cash out."** He took a few steps closer before one of the Khans interrupted. 

 **"Will you get it over with?"** Stash could see he was jittery, probably hyped on chems. Benny lifted his hand and scoffed, but kept his gaze on Stash.

 **"Maybe _Khans_ kill people without lookin'em in the face. But I ain't a fink, dig?"** He reached into his coat and grinned, pulling out the platinum chip. Clearly amused by Stash's shocked expression, he continued.  **"You made your last delivery cat, sorry you got twisted up in this scene..."** He reached in again, replacing the chip with...  _Maria?_ His eye's went from the gun back to Benny. What was  _he_ doing with Bingo's gun?

 **"From where you're kneeling must seem like an 18 karat run of bad luck."** He aimed the gun at Stash's head. He could feel tears streaming down his cheeks but he still glowered at the other, his breathing heavy.  **"Truth is... The game was rigged from the start."**

 

The blast of the gun was the last he heard before returning to black. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stash is revived with little to no memory of his past aside from his name and current goal. Finding the man who killed him has just been added to his job description.

Between bouts of unconsciousness were flashes of bright light, the distant sound of mechanic whirring and hushed whispers. Stash couldn't feel a thing, it was as if his entire body was disconnected from his brain and was left with just a few senses before eventually falling into complete darkness again. The next moment Stash's eye's had opened, and his ears rang and everything ached. Despite everything telling him not to, he stood up and placed his hands over his face, waiting for the ringing to stop and jolted when someone spoke up.

 **"Well, you're finally awake!"** The withered voice of an old man came from beside him, and Stash quickly turned his head, eyes wide with surprise. What was he doing... here?  _Where_ was here to be exact?  **"We didn't think you'd come back at first. Good to see you're making some progress."** He leaned forward a bit, handing Stash a mirror.  **"Now I had to go diggin' a little bit in your head to get the pieces of lead out, but I think I did a pretty good job."** There was light humor behind his voice, but Stash wasn't in the mood to laugh. Upon looking into the faded glass was the moment where all the confusion had cleared and one thing hit him; who was looking back at him? His fingers brushed against the stitched side of his skull. The entire half of his head was shaved from the procedure, and it appeared the old man had cleaned up the rest of his hair into a short style, not that Stash could even recall what he had looked like before. 

With shaky hands he lowered the mirror and nodded slowly to the man's expecting expression, returning the mirror politely.  **"I'm Doc** **tor Mitchell, by the way. Now, let's get you situated and see how the rest of you is doin'. You have a name?"**  The question was clearly rhetorical, but Stash had to take a few minutes to think. Trying to clear his head and make sense of what was going on was a lot harder when a majority of his memories were blank. There were a few blips between the one's he could actually recall, but it was difficult to keep them together.

_A woman stood alone in a kitchen, leaning over a pot , humming a soft tune while she stirred. The windows above the stove were full with beaming orange light filling the room, giving her a youthful glow. She turns around and smiles, motioning to him with her hand. **"C'mon Stash, set up the table for me."**_

He blinked, rubbing his eyes and and taking a deep breath.  **"It's Stash. My name is Stash.** **"** It left his head spinning, and there was still so much he didn't even know about himself aside from that, but it was a start. The doctor had said something afterward that he hadn't paid any attention to, but stood up as he did. Although unbalanced in the beginning, he held himself up with an IV stand beside his bed and looked at his arm, detaching the tube giving him med-x and continuing forward. Doc Mitchell waited patiently while he gathered balance and stepped carefully, using whatever objects were around him to keep him upright. 

 **"Here, we're going to go into the other room so I can give you a mental assessment okay? Right over here."** This time he guided Stash into the next room, settling him down onto the couch and taking a seat in a chair across from him. From there the doctor asked multiple questions involving Stash's personality, giving mostly neutral answers before moving onto some sort of inkblot test. Finally letting him go on his own, Stash remained on the couch for a bit, trying to configure anything they could clearly remembering before looking toward Mitchell again.

 **"Thank you... Is- was there anything on me?"** He cleared his throat, their throat dry and voice rough. The doctor quietly nodded his head and went into the room he woke up in, faintly hearing a bit of rummaging before returning with a dusty backpack. 

 **"I hope you don't mind I looked through it a bit to see if you had a family or something I could identify you with. All I found were a few pictures and a note from your employer I'm guessing."** He handed the back over and he began to dig through its contents. He pulled out a few torn photographs, looking through them with a weak smile. The first one he recognized as him when he was much younger beside a woman. The same one from the flashback he had earlier. The bottom read  _'Me and Mom'_ with a tiny heart beside it. The next was of a few other people he couldn't recognize. All of them older than him telling by the dates they were taken, but he felt like he knew  _where_ it was taken. The last picture was another one of himself, this time not so young. Another boy was beside him, arm looped around Stash's neck and the biggest grin on his face.  _'Me and Ben'_. The name didn't cause any sort of reaction, so he put them away into one of the smaller pockets to read the note. Like Doc Mitchell had said, it gave little to no information about him. He was Courier Six. Supposed to bring some sort of chip back to New Vegas.

 **"New Vegas..."** He held his head in his palm and inhaled sharply, another flashback keeping him tense. It wasn't insightful at all, just a flash of some checkered suit and a sitting up top on the hill. Nothing that could bring him in any direction. Just... New Vegas.  **"Is there anyone that may have seen the people that tried  to kill me?"** He asked while pulling on his leather boots. Along with his bag was some lightweight leather armor but he wasn't interested in putting that on now, satisfied with a tattered shirt and jeans until he would leave the town.

 **"Aside from Victor, ask around town. Someone ought of seen'em."** With a final goodbye, Stash left the doctors house and headed outside, holding up his hand as the sun beamed down on him. After adjusting to the light, he looked around the small farm town and sighed, shifting his back from one shoulder to the other and heading down the hill to the saloon.

* * *

 

Like a struck of bad luck, Stash was suddenly thrown into trouble with a local gang not too long after meeting Sunny Smiles. They had just returned to the saloon that evening after she got him familiar with a rifle when one of the Powder Gangers, Joe Cobb from what Sunny had said, stormed out of the saloon with a nasty grimace on his face. He glared daggers over at the pair and Stash immediately stood up with a scoff, sizing the other up. 

**"Stash-"**

**  
"I got this, Sunny. You've all shown me great kindness today, only fair I give it back."** All the while Joe had been smoking a cigarette, brushing off Stash with a wave of his hand. 

 **"What are you gonna do? Kill me?"** He cocked his gun back and held it at Joe's head, pressing the barrel to his skull. His cigarette dropped from his mouth and Stash shrugged, a smirk on his lips. Sunny, on the other hand, was watching Stash with a shocked expression, but did nothing to stop him. Instead she held Cheyenne back and looked away as a gunshot rang through the empty silence. Joe's body slowly slumped to the ground lifelessly, and Stash looked at them as Trudy rushed out of the double doors. She held her hands to her mouth, looking between the two.

Stash was the first to speak, clearing his throat.  **"Listen, if his little posse decides to do anything I'll be here to get rid of them too. No one's gonna fuck with Goodsprings anymore; you work too hard to keep yourselves afloat as it is. No punk ass gang is going to take that away from you."** He was angry and frustrated. Frustrated that the Mojave worked in such ruthless ways. Survival of the fittest was at it's peak here, but he would be damned if he let the ones that helped him fall apart to the convicts. They didn't deserve it, they had done a lot for him when they didn't need to. They were  _good people_. He leaned the rifle up against the wall and looked down at Joe's body, bending down and hauling him up over his shoulder. 

Trudy just shook her head, an exasperated sigh leaving her lips before she retreated back into the saloon to close up. Luckily most of the blood had spilled on the sand off the deck, which would be gone within a few days telling by the winds.  **"Stash, you didn't have to."** Sunny spoke up, letting go of Cheyenne and following up the hill to the graveyard. She had her arms folded in front of her, and while Stash couldn't see, he couldn't certainly feel her slightly disapproving stare.  **"They could've taken what they wanted and moved on, it happens all the time out here."** She continued after he didn't respond, but Stash couldn't see it that way. He had to bring some amount of justice while he could. If even a little in this unforgiving place.

 **"Sunny, he would've done a lot more and you know that. He could have pillaged the town. Turn it into another little camp for his buddies. I'm just lowering the numbers while I can, they don't fuckin' deserve another breath of air as far as I'm concerned."** There was silence between the two as he carried the body up the hill, and grunted as he dropped Joe in the grave originally meant for him. He looked to Sunny as she took the shovel next to it, piling it over him. He sat back and put his arms on his knees, and wiped the splattered blood from his cheek. Maybe he should have kept his mouth shut. Maybe he shouldn't have been so trigger happy, but he was here now. Dealing with the repercussions of it all.  **"Listen, I'm sorry. But I'm gonna help you get out of this. It's my mess and I'm gonna clean it up, alright? Just give me a moment to think of a plan."**

Sunny was quick to respond now, digging the shovel into the sand and leaning on the handle.  **"Get Ringo up in there to fight with us."** Was her first statement, her expression changing from uncertain to a wide smile.  **"If you can, convince the Doc for some medical supplies. Chet's gotta have some supplies for armor. Easy Pete's got some dynamite if you wanna try your hand at convincing him. Trudy could be some back-up as well."** As she began to formulate the plan together her eyes lit up. She offered her hand to Stash and lifted him up off the ground.  **"You just need to sound convincing. Make them feel like we can win this fight, alright? I'll set up some firearms before they see Cobb ain't coming back and hand them to every you get on our side."** With her mind made him, Sunny whistled for her loyal dog to follow her as she rushed down the hill toward her house, leaving Stash with a new list of things to do.

 **"Okay. Talk to Ringo, convince the town to fight with me, _then_ find the guy who shot me."** He nodded his head and started off in the direction of the old gas station, hoping it would all go right.

* * *

Their numbers had been a bit larger than Stash had anticipated, but Stash had confidence that they had the man power for it. Last minute, Doc Mitchell came out with his laser pistol and patted him on the back with a supportive smile. He felt a bit better knowing he was going to join them, and when Sunny came to tell everyone they were coming, all Hell broke lose. There were bullets flying from both sides, though the town had the advantage. Being able to take cover behind walls and piles of boxes while the Powder Gangers were exposed. While one would reload, Stash would aim his rifle ad shoot, catching one guy's arm and another right in the chest. Trudy had shot down two quickly, while Doc had completely incinerated another to ashes. Seeing their friend completely fall into pieces had the last of them charge forward, and Stash's cover of boxes was torn down with a baseball bat embedded with nails. The convict swung his arms over his head, and Stash didn't have the time to reload. He defensively raised his arm over his head and flinched as a gunshot came right above him, and the man's body fell backward. 

Sunny laughed as Stash looked back up at her with bewilderment, and pulled him up from under his arms.  **"Don't just stand there, we won! We really did it."** She wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight while the others filed into the saloon. Stash chuckled with her, and had to pry her off of him. 

 **"I told you we would, you dolt. Now go celebrate. I... I have to go now."** Her bright smile faltered slightly, but she nodded her head in understanding.  **"Maybe when this is all over I can come back. New Vegas is a long ways away, but if bullets can't stop me, I'll be damned sure nothing else will."** He kissed her forehead and picked up his rifle, holstering it to the harness on his back and turning away. Where Sunny had gone back into the saloon with the others, Ringo waited patiently to speak next.

He fumbled for the caps in his pocket, and handed them to Stash gratefully.  **"It's all I got right now, but I can't thank you enough for saving my life. It really means a lot to me."** Ringo was still breathless from the fight, his face red from the adrenaline.  **"Listen, if you ever pass by the Crimson Caravan, come in to see me. I'll have more caps for you then."** He tipped his hat and quickly followed Sunny in, leaving Stash out alone. A weak smile lifted the couriers expression as he lit up a cigarette, and turned his back on the little town to leave. 

* * *

Stash's following events following Goodsprings were almost linear to the fight. He had roughed up some other Powder Gangers on the way to Primm, which he had heard was in a bit of a twist. Apparently his name got around fast to the growing gang and now they wanted his head. Though some deserters had seemingly taken of residence  in Primm's hotel, keeping the citizens holed up in a casino as well. Stash ended up doing undercover work to sneak into the correctional facility as another Powder Ganger in order to get someone as a sheriff. After the deputy had died trying to escape with Stash out of the hotel, they were out of options for any other sheriffs. A convict by the name of  Meyers who's time had already been nearing an end when the Powder Gangers took over was one such candidate. He didn't want to be apart of the gang no more, and thus Stash had made it possible with the NCR to pardon him and become the new sheriff. Meyers had quickly asserted himself as the law enforcer in town, and overall made the citizens happy. 

Stash had gotten information on where his attempted killer could have gone, and then some after listening to deputy Beagle's diary. The story followed up; checkers suit, Khans, and a nasty attitude. It was time wasting, figuring out other's people's problems but it at least gave him some more information on where to go. In the process he had also fixed up an old Eyebot on Jonathan Nash's desk collecting dust. After a quick conversation following up on the loss of the platinum chip, Nash had given the courier the offer to take ED-E, which he graciously had. The robot was arms with a laser, of course he wouldn't turn it down.

In the midst of tracking following the path, Stash had been looking closely on the map of his Pip-Boy while Ed-e kept an eye on the ants crowding a dead radscorpion. They didn't bother him as he passed, but a group of Jackals had taken the chance to jump him. His only cover being a billboard, Stash did what he could to fend them off while ED-E hovered just over their bullets, shooting at them while playing... fighting music? Definitely his new favorite robot. Ed-e had managed to lure a few of the Jackals into a hoard of solider fire ants, which were none too pleased about being trampled on. They ended up burning the few that had followed ED-E, and the two left stared in shock. It gave Stash enough time to aim carefully and shoot, the bullet going right through ones head and into the other. 

 **"Ah, yeah! That was awesome!"** He looked to ED-E as it beeped cheerfully, and he giggled. Reporting back to the NCR at the Mojave Outpost had given him a new task to search out Nipton. Seeing as it was on the way to a place he was already headed, Stash took the job and headed out for a peak, keeping low through roaming fire ants and coming up to a chain-link fence. He followed it, covering his mouth and nose as the smoke in the air sent him coughing. The loud, rather obnoxious voice of a stranger came up from his side and he on reflex his shot him in the gut. Oops... He wore the usual Powder Ganger armor, so Stash figured it wasn't much of a loss. He stepped back and looked around to see if there were any others, but only saw two people fighting out in the sand. Stash looked to ED-E, confused and suddenly jumped when he heard a gunshot. One of them came running toward Stash, fear all over his face. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old. 

 **"You see what that crazy bitch tried to do? She was after my lucky necklace, the fuck...?"** He was shaken up, bad, and Stash didn't know what to do. He did eye the necklace of star bottle caps are his neck though, and bit the inside of his cheek. 

 **"Hey man, you're bound to get attacked for it again. There's ton of crazy fucks around the Mojave, I'll take it off your hands though."** He offered innocently, but he hesitantly gave Stash the necklace.

**"Alright, but it's your funeral man, thanks."**

He seemed genuinely glad to part with them, so Stash didn't feel  _too_ guilty. Now back onto the situation in Nipton, the courier continued their exploration through the pillaged town. He could only imagine that Goodsprings might have looked like this had he not been there. Primm, too. When he turned the corner of the store, he was shocked to still see them there. All grouped up in... a line of crucified Powder Gangers.  **"Holy shit, ED-E. Be careful, okay?"** The robot hummed in response as Stash cautiously approached them, though they soon spread out as another left the mayors building. He was walking toward Stash as a calm pace, so he decided to take the chance and lower his weapon. They didn't look... too crazy, despite the crucifixions lined up behind him. Maybe they just had an issue with the convicts? 

The man's voice though, was cold, chilling. it sent shudders down the couriers spine as he spoke, and the legionarie grinned upon notice.  **"Hello, profligate. I am Vulpes Inculta, part of Caesars Legion."**

 

 


End file.
